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COPYRIGHT DEPOSHi 




'MY LITTLE BOY WILL WELCOME ME" 



THE DRUMS 

AND OTHER POEMS 



By 

Walter Romeyn ^enjamin 




1917 

ROBERT J. SHORES 

NEW YORK 



MR. SHORE'S NEW BOOKS 

DOLLAES AND CENTS 
By Albert Payson Terhune 

THE ANCIENT QUEST 
By Reginald Wright Kauffman 

BUCKING THE TIGER 
By AcHMED Abdullah 

THE DESTINY OF THE UNITED STATES 
By Snell Smith 

THE MASTER OF BONNE TERRE 
By William Antony Kennedy 

OUR UNITED STATES ARMY 
By Helen S. Wright 

EAT YOUR WAY TO HEALTH 
By Dr. Robert Hugh Rose 

LOVES AND LOSSES OF PIERROT 
By William Griffith 

FRIENDSHIP AND OTHER POEMS 
By B. H. Nadal 

MRS. BOBBLE'S TRAINED NURSE 
By George Fox Tucker 

EVERYMAN'S WORLD 
By Joseph Anthony Milburn 

THE VALLEY OF LEBANON 
By Helen S. Wright ; 



Copyrig-ht, 1917 

ROBERT J. SHORES 

New York 



• 



MAY -4 1917 

©Ci.A4r)2247 






To My Wife 
Carina de Saint Seigne Benjamin 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

My Love 7 

Hope On ! 8 

The Drums 9 

The Great Sounding Sea 13 

Ghosts . 15 

Geraldine % 17 

Love Immortal 18 

The Shadovp^ of Death 19 

Eeincarnation — ^A Vagary 20 

The Only Way 22 

Love and Death 23 

Love on a Bicycle 25 

The Mystery 27 

Little Brother 28 

Your Soul 29 

The Eiver of Tears 31 

To William the Worst 33 

Euralie 34 

The Baby's Grave 36 

The New Baby . 37 

Adele 39 

Love's Sweet Bells 40 

Christian Hope . 42 

A Lover's Quarrel 43 

Doubting 44 

Despondency 46 

Forgiveness 48 

Fulfillment 49 

Ignorance is Bliss . . 51 

Youth 52 

To M. B. E 53 

His Voice 54 

Cheeb Up 55 

5 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Whom God Loveth, He Chasteneth 56 

A Pbayeb 58 

Coming Home 59 

The Wokld of Time 61 

When I Am Dead 62 

T^ Candace Wheelee at 83 63 

Tiiu FiEST Cause 64 

Their Golden Wedding 66 

At Peace 68 

The Old Time Songs 70 

The Mothee 72 

Union College "1874" 74 

Spooks 75 

Dbifting — The Titanic 77 

The Glory of the Cross 79 

The Pines 80 

A Toast 81 

Gaudeamus Igitur 82 

The Golden Eule 84 

One of His Little Ones 85 

Dawn 87 

Chaeitt 68 



6 



MY LOVE 

MY love knows naught of trick or guile; 
Her face shows all emotion, 
It^s either tears or cheerful smile 
Whene'er she takes a notion. 



She laughs in glee at silly deeds 
And sobs when she is scolded. 

Or loudly cries for what she needs 
Except when sleep-enfolded. 

She wakes, alas! at day's first peep. 
And chirps, and calls and chatters. 

And any chance of others' sleep — 
Why, these are foolish matters! 

Her mouth is set with shining pearls. 

Her lips are poppies blown, 
Behind her ears the little curls 

Come twisting, coyly down. 

Somewhere, from out the great unknown 

This blessing came to me; 
A jewel of the great white throne 

Dropped from God's treasury. 

7 



HOPE ON! 

SOME have little — others more, 
The ways of God are not the same. 
Some flourish with an ample store! 

While some are poor and blind and 

lame. 
Yet if you keep an honest name, 
There's surely hope for you. 

You may have gifts, the rich man knows 

He'd give his all, if he could have. 
"Not every summer rose that blows 
Is worn by beauty, or the brave. 
Improve the good your Father gave. 
There's surely hope for you. 

Evils on every side abound 

And traps are set for errant feet. 
They only walk on solid ground 

"Who turn from all the bad they meet. 
And keep to things, good, pure and 
sweet. 

There's surely hope for you. 

Thank God, for what He's done, anew. 
Thank Him for life and health and 
friends. 

8 



You may lack many things, ^tis true, 
Yet thank Him for the good He sends. 
Yon thief who prowls the city dens, 
But for His mercy, might be you! 



THE DRUMS 

THE drums, the drums, there is music 
in the beating of the drums. 
The heart grows gay and lighter as the 

brass band onward comes. 
One falls in step and takes a stride. 
And with the band walks on in pride, 
And banging, crashing at his side 

The drums, the drums, the busy, busy 

drums. 
The drums, the drums, the rattling, 
battling drums. 
The drums, the drums, the merry, merry, 

drums. 
How they set the blood atingling as the 
brass band onward comes! 

I have no skill at drumming, yet I have 

a broken drum 
That is laid away securely in a sacred 

place at home. 
My lost boy held it when he died. 
Had they but seen it by his side 
I know the very drums had cried. 

The weeping and the wailing of the 

drums. 
The moaning and the groaning of the 
drums. 

10 



The sobbing and the sighing of the 
drums. 
How they set the blood atingling as the 
craped flag onward conies! 

Oh, when I hear their dirges I can but 

think with pain 
That never more his little hand will 

strike that drum again. 
Perhaps in that far distant land 
He marches in an angel band. 
Perhaps they echo to his hand. 

The drums, the drums, the golden, 

golden drums. 
The drums, the drums, the sweet, 

celestial drums. 
The drums, the drums, the corps of 

Heavenly drums. 
How they set the blood atingling as the 

bright band onward comes! 

When my sojourn on earth is o'er and my 

last hour is come, 
I'll listen in the future world for music 

of his drum. 
My little boy will welcome me. 
His laughing face once more I'll see. 
How sweet will then their music be. 

11 



The drumS; the drums, the great, 

eternal drums! 
The drums, the drums, the grand, 

supernal drums! 
The drums, the drums,. Jehovah's 

mighty drums! 
How the soul will sing in glory when that 

happy moment comes! 



12 



A 



THE GREAT SOUNDING SEA 



FEEBLE old couple, with hands in- 
terlocking, 
Stood close to the edge of the great 
sounding sea; 
Then turned the old man to his white- 
haired companion 
And in these faint words to her softly, 
s'^id he; 



*^The years have been fifty since we here 
together 
Stood first by the edge of this great 
sounding sea 
And always in trouble, in good or bad 
weather, 
Faithful you've been, dear, and loving 
to me. 

^^You have nursed me in sickness, in grief 
and in danger — 
An angel of goodness, God's blessing 
to me; 
Without you I should have been lonely, 
a stranger, 
I ne'er can repay all the debt I owe 
thee." 

13 



Then said the old woman, in trembling, 
cracked accents; 
"The sands and the waves of this great 
sounding sea 
Seem the same as the day when we first 
stood together, 
And so is the love I had ever for thee. 



"This life is a moment, but Love is im- 
mortal. 
More true and more firm than the great 
sounding sea, 
And sometime, it may be, that Heaven's 
bright portal 
Shall open, my dear love, for both you 
and me.'' 



14 



GHOSTS 

I HE full-orbed moon parades the star- 
gemmed sky, 
Weird shadows fall along the woodland 
way. 
A tree toad shrills within the copse near 

And fluffy owls, who shun the light of 

day, 
Now flit among the trees, and with wild 

cry 
Disturb the night, in their fantastic 

play. 
The grave yard gate hangs open, and it 

seems 
As if the ghosts come forth, like folk in 

dreams. 
Confused, uncertain, strange of form and 

face. 
With circling movements, and with halt- 
ing pace. 
They dog our footsteps and from tree to 

tree 
We think to see them hover silently. 
They hide behind the leaning bush that 

waves 
Its scarlet blossoms o'er the swelling 

graves. 

15 



They creep amid the tangle of lush grass 
And mock and gibber as we seek to pass. 



"Come, join us in our narrow beds/' they 

say, 
"Come where the crawling worms may 

have their day;'' 
"Come from the warmth of Life to Death's 

cold clay;" 
"Come where all joys are lost and lost 

alway." 



A cloud sweeps o'er the moon, — the owls 
are still, 
A sense of horror fills the harrassed 
mind 
We turn to fly, and fly we must until 
We find again the touch of human 
kind. 



16 



GERALDINE 

1 CARVED the name of Geraldine 
On granite by the sea; 
And, as I worked, her soft brown eyes 
Were sweetly bent on me. 



The years have come, the years have gone. 

And now I stand alone 
Where waves rush in with ceaseless roar. 

And sea-weeds bind the stone. 



I trace her name with trembling hand, 

I kneel and kiss the place 
Where last I saw her slender feet, 

Her form of girlish grace. 



The name remains, but she — alas! 

(The sea birds mourn above.) 
Weeping I hasten from the place. 

The burial place of love. 



17 



LOVE IMMORTAL 

WHEN life is o^er and I have passed 
the gates of Hell 
Shall I still love thee as I've loved thee 

ever! 
Shall my free soul make vain endeavor 
To speak to you, it loved so well? 
Ah, it were sad to yield this mortal breath 
And then find longing in the realm of 
Death. 



Or shall I have the happiness of knowing 
That we are parted but a little while. 
That death and absence never can defile 
Our love. True love will but be growing. 
For God is love, and He will never see 
The loss of love in all eternity. 



It may be years ere you come o'er to me 
But time flies quickly on that farther 

shore. 
You'll find me waiting, loving evermore 
With heart aflame, to see and greet thee. 
And there united, time and space forgot 
True love will blossom — as if death were 

not. 

18 



THE SHADOW OF DEATH 

THEKE is an air of gentleness and 
peace 
That falls upon the lives of those who 

tread 
The borders of that mystic, future land. 
The cares of earth fall from them one by 

one, 
Their eyes take on a saddened, searching 

look. 
As if they peered into the dim beyond. 
And sought to read the riddle of the stars. 
Dear, dying Saints, how can we ever know 
What unseen messengers are sent by God 
To tell the soul of its approaching change? 
Forewarned, the eager soul prepares for 

flight 
And turns itself to higher, better things. 
Careless of earth, it lets its mortal frame 
Fall to disuse, and preens its growing 

wings. 
While waiting for the final, welcome call. 
Then comes the change, so gentle and so 

slow 
We think them living, when with Death 

they go. 



19 



REINCARNATION— A VAGARY 

STTAT.Ti we all know, at some far dis- 
tant day, 
That we have lived this life and more 
beside, 
That these frail bodies of uplifted clay- 
Are but the shell in which our souls 
abide, 
Till, freed by death, they take on other 

forms 
And leave the old to quick decay and 
worms. 

How strange to learn that this immortal 

spark 
Had served to kindle other human 

lives. 
Till, climbing upward from primeval dark 

To God's effulgence it in time arrives. 
Progressing ever towards the highest 

goal, 
Wherein, grown holy, shines the perfect 

soul. 

One life is all too short to win the prize 
That Heav'n holds out to those who 
love the Truth. 
20 



In strong endeavor all the contest lies, 

And that demands, alas! eternal youth. 
So, Phoenix-like, from death to death we 

rise 
And gain our final triumph in the skies. 



21 



THE ONLY WAY 



T^HE road to Heaven with thorns is 



JL sown^ 

Dropt from the crown our Saviour wore, 
And burdens on our backs are thrown, 
As heavy as the cross He bore. 
The path to Calvary is long. 
It calls for many a weary day; 
We all must walk it for our sins. 
It is the only way. 



The road to Hell is straight and wide; 
One travels there with careless ease, 
While gathered near on ev'ry side 
Are wordly things that tempt and please. 
Give me, dear Lord, the narrow path; 
I care not what the world may say. 
Oh, let me ever walk with Thee, 
Thou art the only Way. 



22 



LOVE AND DEATH 

THE day will come — it may be close at 
hand, 

Wlien thou beside a shrouded form shalt 
stand, 

And bending o'er the cold, responseless 
face 

With thy dear lips, give me a last em- 
brace. 

Deem not love's tribute lost, for I shall 
know 

E'en tho into the land of shades I go. 



As some rich robe, decayed by age and 

wear. 
So lies the body dead and worthless there. 
Think not that it is I, for I have grown 
Into a form far fairer than thine own. 
And now a spirit of the upper air 
I wander free of earth and earthly care. 



Life's burden lost, and fear of death far 

gone. 
Love looks with courage to the coming 

dawn 
Of a new life, more happy and more blest 

23 



Than e'er by prophet's burning lips pro- 
fessed. 

And there it waits and naught to it more 
sweet 

Than welcome music of thy coming feet. 



24 



LOVE ON A BICYCLE 

(June) 

MISS ROSE upon a tricycle 
Is often won't to ride, 
While I, upon a bicycle, 

Go spinning by her side. 
And when I sometimes strike a stone, 

And tumble on the dirt, 
She asks me in a quizzing tone, 
"Did it hurt?'' 



I tell her no, altho' I feel 

In every bone a pain. 
Then haste to mount my fallen wheel 

And take the road again. 
Thro' lonely lanes, we often go 

O'er hills and valleys roam. 
And sometimes we are very slow, 

Coming home. 

(October.) 

One night, on last September, 
We rode by light of moon, 

I said to Rose, — "Remember 
We shall be parted soon. 

25 



Our cycle trips are ended here; 

Vacation days are past, 
Their memory with you, I fear, 

May not last." 



She looked up from her tricycle 

In such a winning way. 
That I, upon my bicycle, 

Fell mad in love that day, 
I told her how I loved her. 

She said to ask papa. 
And they have both consented. 

Pa and Ma. 



26 



THE MYSTERY 

SHE died at dawn and now she lies 
With pallid lips and vacant eyes. 
Her hands are folded on her breast, 
(A dead bird in a broken nest) . 
By her side her doll is lying, 
(In the trees the winds are sighing), 
With candles burning at her head 
And lilies scattered o'er the bed. 
Our hearts are weighted down with woe, 
(We can but weep, who loved her so). 
No more the patter of her feet. 
No more her laughter, low and sweet. 
Too pure, too good to stay on earth, 
(The angels called her from her birth) . 
Ours for a short and happy day. 
She heard the call and fled away. 



27 



LITTLE BROTHER 

LITTLE brother, Little brother. How 
have I lost you I 
In the old days — the far days, 
The vanished youthful days, 
Still I feel your hand in mine, 
Still I see your big blue eyes upturned 
In loving faith in my good will. 
Like a dog you followed me. 
Always at my elbow, always cheerful, 
Exulting in my comradeship. 
Anxious to please in all you did. 



Little brother, Little brother. How have 

I lost you! 
Today you count your millions. In your 

palace 
Are many servants, gold and lace and 

silver, 
In my house, plain living only. 
No longer do I see you. Too well I know 
That my ways are not your ways. 
Beneath your notice now, being poor. 
And yet my heart turns back to old days. 
Little brother. Little brother. How have 

I lost you! 

28 



YOUR SOUL 

YOUR soul! The only thing that^s 
really yours! 

Your body is but borrowed from the dust. 

And to that dust it shall as dust return. 

A few years back its dull and senseless 
clay, 

Was garnered by some hungry, spread- 
ing root, 

Which sprang to flower and then to 
ripened grain. 

Then used as food it served to build a 
man. 

How many times it had been used before. 

How many times it shall be used again, 

No one may know. 



Guard well your heav'nly soul. 

Straight from your God — a gift of won- 
drous price, 

For you alone, and none can own it else. 

A solemn gift to do with as you will. 

Well kept, it ripens into perfect flower, 

Kesigned to sin, it sinks to deepest Hell. 

Then guard it well. You have this single 
chance 

To nurse it forth into the richest bloom 

29 



And if by grace of God, you shall succeed, 
Transplanted to the blest celestial clime 
That soul shall blossom to the end of time. 



30 



THE RIVER OF TEARS 



N channels worn deeply by passing of 
years 



r 

It flows on forever, the River of Tears. 

The willows hang low o^er its dark-shaded 
bank, 

The rushes that line it are matted and 
dank; 

Its waters run swiftly and murmur with 
sighs, 

While over its rapids it breaks in loud 
cries. 

Deep, sullen and noisy it echoes with 
moans 

And, mingled with sobbing, rise heart- 
breaking groans. 

It springs from the fountains of grief 
and of shame 

And gathers in volume from woes with- 
out name. 

There are tears of the maiden whose lover 
is gone. 

And tears of the mother who wails her 
first-born; 

Hot tears of the father who sees his son 
dead. 

And tears of the widow whose last hope 
is fled. 

31 



still onward it flows, and it ever must 

flow 
Till Time in its fullness makes end to our 

woe. 
Yet I know that this River which darkens 

our eyes 
Finds end to its flowing in fair Paradise. 



32 



TO WILLIAM THE WORST! 

LET loose the savage dogs of war, 
Throw wide the gates of hell, 
And let the cannon^ s cruel mouth 
Its bloody story tell. 



Upon the altars of your pride 

Heap high the piles of slain. 
What though your steel-clad, heavy 

hands 
Are soiled with gory-stain! 



You do not fill these early graves, 
Your sons are not the spoil 

Of ghastly fields of wounds and death 
Where suffering thousands toil. 



O Germany! What woes are yours! 

What horrors yet to come! 
Drive forth the tyrant from his throne 

And peace will bless your home. 



33 



EURALIE 

SOMEWHERE. Somehow. I know 
that I shall meet her, 
Som.ewhere, where flowers bloom, and 
birds are singing. 
Somehow. It matters not, — but I shall 
greet her 
As she comes forth to me, — ^bright sun- 
shine bringing. 
Earth holds no greater bliss for me, 
Than Euralie — my bride to be. 



How shall 1 know her? Who of us can 

ten 

What sweet responsive chords within 
us lie? 
Where'er her radiant face may come. Full 
well 
I know I could not blindly pass it by, 
No greater prize in life for me 
Than Euralie — my bride to be. 



When we shall meet, dear Love, our 
hearts will know 
And rush together in a burst of flame. 
Our hearts and souls, alike in joy or woe, 

34 



Were meant in time to meet and love 
the same. 
None shall be dearer then to me 
Than Euralie — my bride to be. 

She waits my step. Oh Love, speed on 
the day 
When first her longed for, prayed for 
face 1^11 see, 
When hand in hand we'll take our joyous 
way 
And welcome give to Love's eternity. 
Heav'n has no greater bliss for me 
Than life with thee — my Euralie 



35 



THE BABY'S GRAVE 

TWO little shoes with broken toes, 
Two little feet that strayed away, 
Two drooping lids that sought repose 

And closed, alas; till Judgment Day. 
Two broken hearts, and tearful eyes, 

A baby's grave and an empty chair. 
The nights will pass, and suns will rise 

Yet tender thoughts must linger there. 
The grass grows rank, the cold rains fall, 
And wild winds moan the whole night 
thro'. 
The deep snow drapes it with a pall — 
Yet hope from Heav'n comes shining, 
too. 
For far away in God's great host, 

These two are waiting, bright and fair; 

The mother has found the babe she lost — 

Dear Lord, be kind, my humble prayer. 



36 



THE NEW BABY 

THE baby at our house is new, 
We are so glad he's come, 
We sit around and grin like fools, 
While Baby sucks his thumb. 



His face is red, his head is bald. 
He rarely shows his eyes. 

And all of us come running up 
Whene'er he starts and cries. 



He waves his chubby arms about, 
And signals with his toes. 

He has an awful appetite. 

And what he wants, he knows. 

For when he thinks supplies are low 

He gives a piercing yell. 
And when his tummy is quite full 

He quiets down a spell. 

He snuggles up beside his Ma 
And heeds her slighest call, 

While as for Pa and all the girls. 
He doesn't care at all. 

37 



Poor little chap, he can not know 
What joy he brings us home; 

We love to sit and look at him, 
While Baby sucks his thumb. 



38 



ADELE 

A DELE! — The night draws on apace 
The clock ticks slowly in the outer 
hall. 
The phantom hours each other chase, 
Yet lighten not my grief at all. 



What tho' a weary year has flown, 
Still bleeds my heart as on the day 
When death his random dart had thrown, 
And torn my sweet Adele away. 



The shaft which struck thee to the earth. 
Alike pierced me with cruel wound. 
Too late, alas, I know thy worth; 
No joy in life can now be found. 



What words can bind a broken heart; 
What tender sympathy avail 
To dry the tears that needs must start 
At mention of thy name, Adele? 



39 



LOVE'S SWEET BELLS 

A HASTY word or ill considered act 
May sadly wound the one we love 
the best. 
A surly comment, or a lack of tact 

May cause her sadness, or a deep un- 
rest. 
We little think when carelessly we speak 
That peace at home is God's best boon, 
That Love's fond heart is very soft and 
weak 
When Love's sweet bells are jangled 
out of tune. 

Keep such a constant guard upon your 
lips 
That naught but kindness on her ears 
may fall; 
He walks in danger and makes many 
slips 
Who speaks out brusquely, and ne'er 
thinks at all. 
This life is short, its joyous days are few. 
Our fleeting years must all be ended 
soon. 
Why waste in anger? You will surely rue 
When Love's sweet bells are jangled 
out of tune. 

40 



For love breeds love, and peace cannot 
abide 
Where homely virtues are thus cast 
away, 
He goes in gladness, — ^who puts care aside 
And turns his forehead to the sunny 
day. 
With peace at home, we shall find 
strength to bear 
The frosts of winter and the heats of 
June, 
The want of money and the family care; 
And Love's sweet bells will chime in 
perfect tune. 



41 



CHRISTIAN HOPE 

I 



N every life there conies a time of sorrow 
That fills the heart with bitter pain 



and fears. 
Where'er we turn we see no bright to- 
morrow, 
And in the future naught but tears. 

Our steps are clogged with utter, deep 
disaster, 
Our dearest hopes are sunk in grief and 
shame. 
On every side the blows come fast and 
faster. 
Till joy to us is but a name. 

'Tis then our courage should be best and 
strongest. 

He wins no palm who lives in idle ease. 
He is the victor who can fight the longest 

And bend to sorrow on his knees. 

Humbly we pray, and strength to us is 
given 
To conquer evil, and once more arise 
Armed for our troubles, from doubting 
shriven. 
Expecting rest in Paradise. 

42 



A LOVER'S QUARREL 

I LOVE her more than I can tell 
And yet, in jealous pride, 
I sought to wound her whom I prized 

Than all the world beside. 
In shame I asked forgiveness 

To woo away her pain; 
She smiled on me while weeping 
Like sunshine thro' the rain. 



I felt downcast and shameful, 

My conscience smote me sore. 
She gave me good for evil then. 

In measure running o'er. 
No more can I distress her 

No more awake her fears, 
'Tis joy to see her smiling, 

Without reproachful tears. 



43 



DOUBTING 

WHERE shall my troubled spirit go 
When death has burst the bond, 
That binds me to this earth below? 

Shall I find life beyond? 
When stripped of brain, my senses gone, 

Shall I then know and see 
The glories of another one 
Which God prepares for me; 

Or shall my last expiring sigh 

Just mark the end of all, 
And dust become, that which was I, 

And in the dust down fall! 
Shall all the knowledge I could find 

Be lost at one fell blow, 
And what was once an eager mind 

No longer knowledge know! 

Shall all the toils, the griefs, the cold 

That marked my life with pain. 
Be but a story that was told. 

And may be told again. 
Shall all my lov'd ones fall away 

Forever in the gloom. 
And nowhere in God's bright array. 

To love be given room? 

44 



No, no. Sad soul, Awake! Arise! 

Forego such foolish fears. 
No contrite heart will He despise, 

Nor will He slight your tears. 
Somewhere beyond, on shining shore, 

Full radiant by His side. 
Love will repay the ills you bore. 

And Life be glorified. 



45 



DESPONDENCY 

THIS is a world of sorrow and of 
parting, 
Our days of joy are short and very few. 
We meet and laugh, but soon the tears 
are starting, 
When death breaks hearts, 'tis hard to 
start anew. 



We seek for pleasure and we find but 
sadness. 
Long weary days to weary days suc- 
ceed; 
We turn to friends in eager hope of glad- 
ness. 
And find that they but join us in our 
need. 



They say dark clouds have each a silver 
lining. 
That frigid storms the burning sun- 
shine hide; 
That earnest hope should shut out all 

repining, 
'^Let all stand fast when God is on your 
side.'' 

46 



'Tis sweet to know we may rejoice here- 
after, 
That all our pains will there rewarded 
be; 
And yet I would that happy times and 
laughter 
Were not postponed to some eternity. 



47 



FORGIVENESS 

I WAS a wandering lamb; far from the 
fold astray 
Into the world I went, and only sought 

to play. 
The sun shone fair and the fields were 

green, 
Joy, peace and hope on all sides were seen, 

I looked for a life of delight. 
But the night came on and the wind was 

high, 
And many wierd ghosts came trooping 

"by; 

I fell in a bog which sucked me down. 
Deep and deeper. I saw I must drown. 
And of help there was none in sight. 

Then I called on the Master, to come to 

my afd. 
I was chilled to the marrow, my heart 

was afraid, 
I hoped he might hear, I didn't know. 
He was so kind and He lov'd me so; 

He heard me and came to my side. 
He gave me his hand and drew me out. 
He gave me his cloak and staff so stout 
He gave me a kiss, no word of blame. 
He took me home and all was the same. 
And now I no longer roam wide. 
48 



FULFILLMENT 

WITHIN each soul tliere is a golden 
flower, 
Which often fails to blossom here, 
But bursts in bloom when by God's 
gracious power 
It reaches to the Heavenly sphere. 



The soil of Earth is rank and bitter cold, 
Sown full of grief and wearing care, 

"Which kills the root and wastes the 
precious gold. 
And cuts off promise everjrwhere. 



Had we to live our wasted lives again 
We should all go the same sad way. 

From fall to fall, from pain to greater 
pain, 
The same old troubles day by day. 



'Tis vain to think that we should ever lead 

A life far better than the past; 
We'd but retrace our wandering steps 
indeed, 
And this same end we'd find at last. 

49 



From Earth removed, in God's own 
Heavn'ly light, 

That flower has chance to ripen free, 
And there relieved from every blight 

It blossoms to Eternity. 



50 



IGNORANCE IS BLISS 

COULD I but read my loved one's 
heart, 
And gain the secret it conceals, 
Could I but scan her inmost thoughts. 
And know the truth she really feels, 
Then would I learn my lesson through, 
And if I found she loved me true, 

I would be gay. 
And if I found she loved me not, 
I'd turn away. 



And yet I'd fear to read the book 

Of woman's heart thus free to me. 
Perhaps t'were better to remain 

In this sad, sweet uncertainty. 
For if I found she loved not me 
My heart would break and I would be 

Cast down indeed. 
Her heart and thoughts I shall not scan, 
Nor seek to read! 



51 



YOUTH 

OH olden days! Oh golden days! 
Oh days when time was young! 
Give back to me the dreams of youth, 

Give back the songs unsung! 
When all of earth was fair and new, 

Each hour untried by care. 
While now the joys of age are few 
And sadness for its share. 

Each rising sun with singing lark. 

Brought gladness to the mind. 
Each sunset glow and falling dark. 

Left beauty's touch behind. 
On all sides scenes of glory rose, 

That tuned the soul to song, 
To-day no more fair fancy glows. 

But broods on human wrong. 

Give back to me the open eye 

That faced the world with calm. 
Give back the heart that could defy 

The tempter's poisoned charm. 
Oh olden days! Oh golden days. 

Oh days when time was young. 
Give back to me the dreams of youth, 

Give back the songs unsung! 

52 



TO M. B. R. 

WITH lowered lids, my Mary's eyes 
Work havoc in my timid heart. 
In vain my harried spirit tries 
To turn aside that fatal dart. 
I know the weakness of my will, 

And yet bewitched must stay until 
I make of all a full surrender, 

As not for worlds would I offend her. 



I do not mind her open gaze; 

For that is clear of all deceit. — 
Who e'er is skilled in women's ways 

Knows when they're seeking means to 
cheat. 
It's when she keeps her eyes half closed 

As if she slept a bit or dozed. 
That I have found much cause to fear. 

For then I know my fall is near. 



53 



HIS VOICE 

YOUR Savior calls from Calvary's 
mount! 
Hear his appealing cry! 
"My wandering lambs, come to the fount 
Where none who drink can die!'' 



Can you poor sinners, close your ears, 
While there sweet Jesus stands. 

Will you not cast out doubts and fears 
And take those outstretched hands? 



Will you not say; "Jesus, I'll come, 
And love and trust in Thee, 

Thou art my refuge and my home, 
My God! — who died for me!" 



54 



CHEER UP 

THE darkest clouds will surely pass 
away, 
Good times will come again. The sun 
Will shine once more on work well done 
And you'll forget you had so hard a day. 



Who does his very best and pays no heed 
To prophets of sad times and woe 
Will find their sayings are not so, 

And learn to shun all of that sorry breed. 



A cheerful face, kind heart and willing 
hand 
Will win for you your proper share 
Of high success. Go cast off care 
And with the earnest workers take your 
stand. 



Press on! Press on! Do all you find to do 
And do it well. You may be sure 
That work well done will e'er endure 

And bring its fair and rich reward to you. 



55 



WHOM GOD LOVETH, HE CHASTENETH 

IF all is well and time is passing gaily, 
One seldom sounds the depths of 
human life. 
When trouble comes, its burden gives us 
daily 
A chance to learn sad lessons from the 
strife. 
Within our hearts there are deep founts 
of feeling 
Which need a storm to make their 
sweetness plain. 
Weighed down by grief, despondent, 
broken, kneeling, 
We then may win a recompense for 
pain. 

What seems a loss may prove a gain in 
passing. 
In shadow lies the end of God's intent. 
When woes on woes upon our heads are 
massing, 
He knoweth best for what those woes 
were sent. 
Tried as by fire, we rise from grief un- 
broken. 
And face the future with a braver 
heart, 

56 



Content to know, even though it be un- 
spoken, 
That strength has come to do our better 
part. 



57 



A PRAYER 

MY feet move downward to the tomb, 
My eyes look up to Thee, 
Thy loving care I dare to hope 
May ne'er he drawn from me. 



Guide Thou my steps through all the way, 

Keep me in peace and rest, 
And may my name in Thy good time 

Be numbered with the blest. 



58 



COMING HOME 

IT'S plain I am a homely man, 
That anyone can see; 
And yet I have three worshippers 
Who think the world of me. 
They hang upon my every look, 
They glory in my smiles, 
And say that no one is so fine 
Within ten thousand miles. 

My modesty is put to test 

Whene'er I go back home, 

There are such shouts and cries of joy 

You'd think the Czar had come. 

It makes me feel so much abashed 

I want to hide my head, 

And yet I own I like it well 

If simple truth were said. 

There's Mary witn ner sunny face. 
And Clelia full of fun, 
And gay Ottavia's jolly laugh 
As down the stairs they run. 
They rush to clasp me round the neck. 
They cry "Papa is here," 
And one would think, who didn't know, 
I'd been away a year. 

59 



No matter if the times are hard 

And customers are slow, 

It's good to find a welcome sweet 

When home at last you go. 

A single life may please some men, 

They are but selfish churls; 

I never wish to change with them, 

Give me my little girls. 



60 



THE WORLD OF TIME 

THE mighty reaper Time with sharp- 
ened scythe 
Moves through his world and cuts down 

young and old. 
No pity has he for the babe that hangs 
In helpless woe upon its mother^s breast. 
The good, the true, the wise, alike are 

prey 
To his devouring blade. Nor might of 

power 
Nor store of gold can stay his fell design. 
All, all must fall before the dread ap- 
proach; 
And if perchance we for a little while 
May hope to shun the touch of his col<J 

steel. 
It is to see our loved ones fade away, 
Until at last, deserted and alone. 
We welcome his advance and gladly turn 
Our faces to the tomb, content to die. 
For there, beside the ones we loved and 

lost. 
We find in God's eternity a rest 
From all the sorrows of this world of 

Time. 



61 



w 



WHEN I AM DEAD 



HEN I am dead, — will you with 
tender sighs 
Fold my cold hands in stillness on my 
breast, 
Will you press down the eyelids o'er my 
eyes. 
Unseeing now of all they loved the 
best. 



Will you place in my hand a full-blown 
rose, 

That I may take it to my lonely grave, 
A symbol of earth's beauty, at its close, 

A token of the heaven I hope to have. 



Will you, when I am laid forever there, 
And when the sod is rounded o'er my 
bed. 
Pour forth for me an earnest heart-felt 
prayer. 
And ne'er forget me, dearest, when I'm 
dead. 



62 



TO CANDACE WHEELER AT 83 

THE hills keep young! Time leaves its 
trace on living things. 

These, it touches with a heedless hand 
and blights their beauty. 

Those, it welcomes to another world and 
weaves a mourning wreath; 

And on still others, on a happy few, it 
sheds a benison 

Of age grown old in gentleness and grace; 

Their faces shine with sweetness, and 
like the hills 

They ne'er grow old, but firm and frag- 
rant, ever fair. 

Remain to teach us, as the poet sung. 

That Time ne'er withers, when the heart 
is young. 



63 



THE FIRST CAUSE 

jifinpHERE is no God! This poor old 

1 foolish world 

Sprang up by chance, by every chance is 

whirled; 
It came from nowhere and to nowhere 

goes, 
And where 'twill finish, no one surely 

knows. 
Its laws are accidents, its mighty powers 
But rude survivals of primeval hours. 
Condensed from gas, it's early solid form 
In time gave birth to jellyfish and worm, 
Prom worm to bird, from beast to human 

shape 
Till man at last gave reason to the ape. 
Wo God marked out the manner of its 

growth. 

Nor laws, by omnipotent power put forth. 
And if some good may here and there be 

found, 
It came like weeds from out a careless 

ground.'' 

So spoke the mocker, and when asked to 
tell 

Who gave the start, that ended things so 
well, 

64 



He said the power was native witk the 

sod; 
And knew not back of all the rest was 
God. 



65 



THEIR GOLDEN WEDDING 

THE bright rays of the setting sun 
Poured in a golden shower 
That fell upon the form of one 
Who died within the hour. 
An old, old man, whose snow-white hair 
Like halo crowned his head, 
And his old wife was kneeling there 
With face bowed on the bed. 

Full fifty years had flown since they 
Were joined for joy or sorrow, 
And they looked forward to this day, 
Their golden wedding morrow. 
But Death stepped in with flying feet 
And set their plans at naught, 
Instead of orange blossoms sweet 
A mourning wreath he brought. 

Their weeping friends stood at the door 
Moved by her bitter grief, 
They knew no words could evermore 
Bring that sad heart relief. 
And when they came to take her hand 
And raise her dropping head, 
She answered not to their demand; 
Her feeble life had fled. 

66 



The setting sun still filled the blue 
Of Heav'n with golden rays, 
That fell upon the heads of two 
Who took no heed of days. 
And as its crimson banners great 
With radiance filled the skies, 
It seemed as thro' a golden gate 
They passed to Paradise. 



67 



AT PEACE 

A FEW more years I have to live, 
And then the tomb. 
For me, ye great, unnumbered dead, 

Make room! make room! 
I ask but for a little space. 

Six feet of ground. 
Where'er a barren piece of land 
May yet be found. 

No lofty shaft appeals to me. 

Nor graven stone. 
I simply crave for rest and peace 

Down there alone. 
Fill in the grave above my bones. 

Replace the sod. 
And leave me for all time to come 

Alone with God. 

Forget my virtues and my faults. 

The same to me. 
There far beyond your praise and blame 

I hope to be. 
And if perchance the golden gates 

Shall open wide, 
I'll hope to see my long-lost friends 

At peace inside. 

68 



And if the trumpet never sounds 

In my deaf ears, 
I'll know it not; it will not rouse 

My foolish fears, 
For if it were not best for me 

To reach the skies, 
The Lord a broken, contrite heart 

Will not despise. 



Some little place he'll surely find, 

Far from the throne. 
Where I may thank Him for the good 

That I have known. 
And there I'll tune my harp and sing 

A joyful song. 
And praise my Saviour every hour 

That rolls along. 



69 



THE OLD TIME SONGS 

THERE'S music in the old-time songs 
Which ring out sweet and true. 
My heart forever fondly longs 

For those my childhood knew. 
I do not care for rag-time lays, 
They have no charm for me. 
Sing me the songs of other days, 
"Sweet Home" and fair "Dundee." 

Fond memories of the distant past 

Come singing back to me, 
I seem to be a child at last 

Beside my mother's knee. 
Then "Baby Bunting" soothed my pain 

And closed my weary eyes. 
Oh, let me hear those songs again, 

Their sweetness never dies! 

The "Happy Land" is far away. 

Alas, I could not know. 
That time was then my happiest day 

Yet I have found it so. 
An angel's crown I wished to wear, 

While now I am content 
To stay on earth and meekly bear 

The troubles Time has sent. 

70 



With "Annie Laurie" by my side 

And "Swallows homeward" flying, 
I have no wish to turn aside 

And put my mind on dying. 
Let "John Brown" moulder in his grave, 

While "Johnnie" marches home. 
Let starry banners proudly wave, 

And those who like may roam. 



I love to hear that good old song, 

"Old Ned," or "Nelly Gray;" 
Let *^Suwanee River" roll along 

When all else falls away, 
I do not care for rag-time lays. 

No charm in them I see. 
Sing me the songs of other days 

They all are dear to me. 



71 



THE MOTHER 

fi if w I NDEB the willows my dear ones 
^J are sleeping, 

Lost in the slumber that never can end. 

Left here deserted my sad heart is weep- 
ing, 

Widowed and childless, my lone watch 
I'm keeping, 

Waiting the summons I pray Him to 
send.'' 

(O heart, poor heart be still, 

Bend to His holy will. 

His angels on thy cares attend.) 

Under the willows I'm kneeling and 
grieving. 

Smoothing the green sod that keeps them 
from me. 

Soul sick and weary my full heart is 
heaving, 

Throbbing and burning, — ^past all be- 
lieving, 

Eyes dim with sorrows — that scarcely can 
see." 

(Oh heart, poor heart be still. 
Bend to His holy will 
His angels come to comfort thee.) 
72 



Under the willows the sun is declining 

Low in the west and the night conies 
apace. 

There on th^ grave top the mother re- 
clining 

Ceases her sobbing, her weeping, re- 
pining, 

Rests in the grasses her stricken dead 
face. 

i 
(Her broken heart is still; 
God in His good will 
Hath joined them in a Heavenly 
place.) 



73 



UNION COLLEGE "1874" 

Im looking back on college days 
I wonder that they e'er seemed long, 
For now to me whose hair is grey, 
'Tis like the echo of sweet song. 
The passing of a summer's day, 
A cheerful road on Life's sad way 
That I would once more stray along. 



The mem'ry of those four short years. 
Now freed of all that was not sweet, 

Too precious is to risk I fear 

By traveling back with way-worn feet. 

'Tis better now to greet and cheer 

Those starting out — My end is near. 
For me, to think and rest is meet. 



74 



SPOOKS 

ON windy days the wildest ghosts 
Come trooping thro' the town, 
They play the merriest sort of pranks 

And turn things upside down. 
They strip the wash from off the lines 

And send men's hats astray 
And pull girls' skirts above their knees 
In quite a shameful way. 

Wild airs they play upon the wires 

That string the towering poles, 
And scream and yell around the eaves 

As if they were lost souls. 
But some of them are quiet folk 

And this I surely know 
For they sit down in rocking chairs 

And rock them to and fro. 

In shining heaps they pile the snow 

Along the railroad track, 
And he who's gone from home away 

Has trouble getting back. 
And if he tries to walk or run 

They twist and pull his clothes. 
Till how he reaches his front stoop 

He really hardly knows. 

75 



There's one good thing about these 
ghosts. 

They never come indoors, 
But work their mischief in the street 

When loud Boreas roars. 
One sitting by a crackling fire 

Or tucked away in bed, 
Can well afford to laugh at them 

"They're only folks who're dead.''^ 



If you were dead, and were a ghost 

You'd like a little fun, 
A graveyard is a gloomy place. 

At best for anyone. 
It's good to get away sometime. 

Far better than it looks. 
So let us have more sympathy 

On windy days for spooks. 



76 



DRIFTING— THE TITANIC 

THE ocean bears strange freight! ^Mid 
cakes of ice 
Float sluggishly the bodies of the dead! 
Here one, there two, and further on a 

score 
Of pale, bedraggled forms, with staring 

eyes 
And anguished face. A mother holding 

fast 
A silent babe; a father with his son 
Clasped in a last embrace. On every side 
Strong men, weak women, tender little 

girls. 
The prey of sea-birds and of hungry fish. 
Amid the crash of breaking ice, the wail- 
ing wind 
Sings requiem o'er the dead. The bright 

new moon 
Hangs in the skies and hides behind the 

clouds. 
As tho' to shut out scenes of utter woe. 
At times, as upward swings a heavy sea, 
A hand comes forth as tho' to seek for aid. 
Or pallid face all streaked with sodden 

hair. 
Around the form of each a buoyant coat 
Still keeps the dead from burial in the 

deep. 

77 



Slowly they drift amid the towering 

bergs 
"Which rise like tombstones, from the 

surging waves. 
No more for them the pleasant sights of 

home, 
No more the smiles of friends, the grasp 

of hands 
That greet the traveler from a foreign 

shore. 
Their fate is now to travel on and on, 
To drift and drift, and in the lapse of time 
To fall in fragments to the ocean's floor, 
And these are they who in the pride of 

life 
Set sail for home a little while before. 
With wealth on every hand they could 

not see 
That Death sat at the feast and marked 

his own. 
Oh Man! what use to you is wealth and 

power. 
Thy time is set, and God but knows the 

hour! 



78 



THE GLORY OF THE CROSS 

THEKE is no shadow of the Cross; 
No darkness in it lies; 
It shineth forth on every side 
Like sun in cloudless skies, 
And casts a sheen of glory round 
Like lilies springing from the ground. 



It brightens every earthly thing 

And sheds a golden glow 
Through all the humble homes of men, 

In darkness here below; 
No place on earth so hid away 
But what it finds the Heav'nly ray. 



E'en in our hearts it throws a light 
That breaks the cloud of sin, 

And lets the glory of the Lord 
Pour its effulgence in. 

Who greets the light with contrite love 

Shall see the risen Christ above. 



79 



THE PINES 

THE sad, sweet music of the pines. 
How it sighs and sobs and moans 
As the wind sweeps through their 
branches, 
Swelling out in solemn tones. 

While I listen to its murmurs 

With my thoughts the music blends, 

And my fancy hears within it 
Dearest voices of old friends. 

Comes a voice now dead and silent 
Bringing back the olden days, 

And I feel my heart-beats quicken 
As I seek to catch eaclj, phrase. 

<'0h my dearest, trust and grieve not. 

We shall meet when life is o'er. 
Think not that I can forget you. 

Though I long since went before. '^ 

From her words I gain sweet solace. 

On my heart are graved the lines 
Spoken by my lost and loved one. 

In the music of the pines. 

80 



A TOAST 

MY mother is a bonny lass, 
And always full of fun; 
She's ready for a hearty laugh, 
Whene'er her work is done. 



At sixty-five she's young in heart, 

She never can grow old; 
Her step is quick, tho' locks of white 

Are mingled with the gold. 



She's had such share of heavy care^ 
It might have killed another; 

She fought it through, nor let it wreck 
Her life with grief and bother. 



Then here's to her, my mother dear,. 
Her praises should be sung; 

For she keeps up a merry heart, 
Tho' sixty-five years young. 



81 



GAUDEAMUS IGITUR 

THAT other folks must die is plain; 
That is the fate of all, we know, 
That *^You'' should die is quite another 
thing. 
You feel it can't be so. 

What! cease to breathe and eat and sleep. 

To pass from life at one fell stroke. 
Ah no — ^that is another nightmare tale 

Prom which, you have awoke. 

'Tis true that years have laid their hand 
Too rudely on your furrowed brow. 

And those dark locks that crowned you 
then. 
Are streaked with silver now. 

IN"o longer can you eat at will, 

Nor pass the night at feast or rout, 

No longer can you lose your sleep. 
And yes, — you are, well, stout! 

And yet you feel as full of life. 

As when your teens were first begun 

And no one has a better zest, 
For just, a little fun. 

82 



Ah well! — rejoice while health remains, 
Your turn will come like all the rest, 

And then — ^protesting at your fate, 
Youll pass — among the blessed (?) 



83 



"THE GOLDEN RULE" 

THE captive in his guarded cell, 
Condemned to die next day, 
Is much the same as all of us 
Who go our careless way. 



For each of us the die is cast; 

We cannot change our fate. 
All are alike assigned to death — 

Some soon and others late. 



As vipers thrown into a box 

Will fight and sting each other. 

So strike we blindly and forget 
That each man is our brother. 



Have pity then on fellow men, 
IN'or make their ways so rough; 
Like us, their lives are sad with care, 
Of sorrows full enough. 



This world would be a better place. 
You must confess it true. 

If you would do to other men 
As they should do to you. 

84 



ONE OF HIS LITTLE ONES 

^t|"^ LEASE, kind mister, wait and hear 

A me, 

Do not turn and pass me by. 
I hate to stop you like a beggar. 

Mammy's sick — I fear she'll die. 
Mammy's watched by little sister. 

Night and day beside the bed; 
But she needn't watch no longer, 

Little sister's dead. 

We have been so cold and hungry, 
"We ain't had no food to-night 

Mammy is so worn and weary, 
An' her face is thin an' white. 

We've been starved through all the 
winter 

All we had was crusts of bread. 

But the thing that hurts the most is, 
Little sister's dead. 

There ain't no money for a coffin. 

And a grave we cannot buy, 
An' we're fear'd les' sister's body 

In the Potter's field must lie." 
He spoke and sobbed and no one heard 
him 

85 



The heedless stranger passed ahead, 
The starving boy crouched in a corner 
And at dawn was dead. 



86 



DAWN 

WHEN cares oppress the troubled 
mind, 
Sleep flies from tired eyes; 
No refuge from sad thoughts I find 
Till glory of sunrise. 



At dawn^s first welcome break, I hear 
The bird's outswelling note — 

Far sweeter to my ravished ear 
Than any Gounod wrote. 



How fresh the morning view appears! 

The night cares pass away, 
And with them all my foolish fears, 

When welcoming the day. 



So may it be on that last night 
When, earth and cares behind, 

We greet the blest, Celestial Light 
And joy eternal find! 



87 



T 



CHARITY 



O wipe the tears from eyes grown wan 
with weeping, 
To still the sobbing of a broken heart 
Is more with Christ-like charity in keep- 
ing, 
Than wish to live and hold oneself 
apart. 



Who brings a smile to cheer the face of 
sadness. 
Who turns the step away from sin and 
shame, 
Does more to fill this weary world with 
gladness. 
Than he who only seeks a selfish fame. 



To work for others and to do our duty 
Where e'er the Father's hand may lead 
the way; 
Will call from Heav'n, a foretaste of its 
beauty. 
And draw from darkness to the perfect 
day. 



88 



"1 Thomson Park Drive 
t-ranberry Township, PA ifiOfifi 
(724)779-2111 '^' '^^ '^°66 



